Lake Effect
by Soss
Summary: It allows for the survival of things that would normally have trouble surviving at all... She was too good to self destruct. He wouldn’t let her. Kibbs-- Ain't Nothing But a Family Thing sequel *Complete*
1. Chapter 1

Title: Lake Effect  
Rating: K+, for now  
Spoilers: None whatsoever  
Summary: Sequel to _Ain't Nothing But a Family Thing_... and on it goes...

A/N: I have returned from a hiatus that was very much needed, especially as far as this story goes. But, hopefully I'll be able to finish these chapters, and be able to give you some new meat :) There are several re-writes that I'm working on here (mostly starting in chapter 2). I hope I haven't lost this story's feel… please let me know if I start going off track!

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_The Lake Effect influences the ever surrounding nature for about twenty miles inland from the shore, creating a heartening environment that wouldn't exist otherwise. In winter, the lakes cause heavy, moist snowfall, blanketing the vineyards, insulating and protecting the vines from the bitter, frigid air. It allows for the survival of things that would normally have trouble surviving at all..._

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1

A day turned into several, which was eventually drawn out to a week where Kate didn't breathe a word or make a single vulnerable gesture towards that cold, exposing November night. Gibbs watched her, but never pressed.

When the days turned into weeks, and as the weeks continued on, Gibbs pressed— in his own, usual Gibbs-way: in secret and without her knowledge... with the best intentions. He investigated the hospitals that Kate's mother frequented, even calling them periodically regarding her condition or any changes. But when his reasons for phoning became weaker, the nurses began sending him in circles, eventually denying him information all together. He was really left no choice…

He had almost forgotten what he had done when on a Monday morning, a few days after the fact, an unforgiving whirlwind tore into the bullpen without a drop of warning. Kate viciously threw her jacket over her desk, landing precariously over her computer monitor; simultaneously tossing her purse onto the floor in her cubicle, having it skid and crash against the back partition wall.

Gibbs felt her anger as she stepped off the elevator— could hear it in the heated click of her heels— but he didn't realize the full force of her fury until he looked up into her reddened face and dark, widened, wild eyes. Kate was seething.

"What the _hell_ did you think you were doing?" her tone cut deep as she managed to keep her voice low and thick with contempt.

He had lifted his eyes to hers, eyebrows slightly raised in mild surprise at her sudden ferocity and blinding rage; he opened his mouth to speak, but she wouldn't let him.

"What were you **_doing…_**??" her raised voice drew a few curious stares from the agents around the squad room; Tony snapped out of his haze, standing up at his desk, utterly bewildered by her curious behavior, directed at their irritable boss. Gibbs looked down to his desk, setting down his pen as he also stood. He looked over Kate's shoulder, glaring at Tony and willing him to sit back down and stay out of it.

Walking slowly out from behind his desk, Kate's eyes followed him vigilantly as he gently took her by the elbow, relieved when she didn't yell, recoil, or pull away. His face grew stern, the lines on his face hardening as he grumbled to her: "Move your feet."

His fingers tightened around her elbow as he led her to the elevator, stabbing at the Down button with a controlled hand.

When the doors opened, a young agent stood in the elevator, file and coffee in hand as he waited for Gibbs and Kate to board. Gibbs held his hand against the side of the elevator door, keeping it from closing, glaring menacingly at the young man. The agent looked up to him with a blurred expression of fear and confusion before gracefully scrambling out of the elevator as Gibbs ushered Kate inside.

The heavy metal doors closed and the lift began to descend not too long before Gibbs slammed at the Emergency.

He turned to her, hovering close, but not to crowd her, his face wrapped in a sort of stern, unyielding fascination of her. His eyebrows almost met in the middle as his brow furrowed furiously, his mouth set in a firm, frowning line, while his arms hung still and waiting at his sides.

"How's your mom, Kate.." he asked quietly, the edges of his voice softened despite his visibly challenging demeanor.

"Why don't _**you**_ tell _me_, Gibbs?" She spat hotly, folding her arms tightly across her chest, edging towards him calculatingly slow, coming toe to toe with him where he could still feel her anger radiating in waves.

Gibbs matched her stance, faintly tilting his head as he scoured over her face shamelessly. He shook his head distantly.

"You wouldn'tve told me." He explained coolly rather than answering her direct question; beginning to anticipate her need of good reason for his covert actions, trying to diffuse the heated air that flowed from her.

"Probably not." She chuckled angrily, still incensed. Her mouth wavered as he saw her swallow hard. "You still.. you could've _asked_, Gibbs. You called my _father_??" Her voice rose again in exasperated, angry disbelief.

He took another careful step towards her, looking down to her, her face softly bathed in the dim emergency lights. He sniffed lightly as he looked away from her.

"I was concerned." His voice was soft gravel against her ears.

Something suddenly reignited her fervor. "Yeah.. well, while you were having some.. some freaking _bizarre_ parent-teacher conference behind my back..!? You could've just **said** something… asked me.. just, talked to me, Gibbs… But you had to go, _completely_ sidestep me **all** together!" She heaved and swallowed again, having to look away from him and breathing a little harder. She murmured angrily, "But what else is new…" Kate looked up to him. "I just.. you can't…" her voice trailed as her hands balled at her sides.

"Would you have told me?" he asked roughly. She looked away and then back to his face, with a miserable and vaguely pathetic expression.

"No.. _Yes._ I don't know..." she quieted.

"Then what's your _point_, Kate?" he asked softly.

She glanced away from his face, over his shoulder before she bowed her head in silent, emotional defeat. She placed a steadying hand on her hip while the other wandered to her forehead, her fingers brushing and massaging the lines and the ache of her brow. Gibbs raised a slow, comforting hand to her shoulder. She leaned into his warm touch, drawing what strength she could from his focused contact.

Kate kept her eyes closed as she slowly pulled away from him.

"She won't see me." She whispered huskily.

Her sudden admission threw him for a moment. Gibbs blinked several times before he reached a large hand to her cheek, lightly rubbing his thumb over the delicate skin beneath her eye. Momentarily relishing the softness of her flushed face, he then slid his rough paw to cradle the back of her head, taking another step towards her and dragging her the rest of the way towards him, close to his chest. He understood the delicate boundary between tough love and gentle tending; he understood what she needed, and he wouldn't let her cave in and collapse upon herself. She was too good to self-destruct. He just wouldn't let her. He could see the cracks from where she had already glued herself back together once before. Gibbs pressed his fingertips against the back of her head, into her soft hair, his other arm cautiously snaking around her waist.

Kate slid her hands to his shoulders, resting her cheek against his chest. Sighing deeply, she didn't cry, but the misdirected anger that had been coursing feverishly, slowly leaked away. She impulsively nuzzled underneath his chin, her nose brushing against his neck as she drew up to her full height. Sliding her hands around and up his back as she rested her flushed cheek against his shoulder, she murmured lightly:

"Why are you doing this, Gibbs…"

He remained silent as he stood there with her, holding her, carefully thinking of an appropriate answer to give her. His lips twitched in a sad, ephemeral little grin as he pulled from her just a little and pressed a firm, moist kiss to her cheek; running a gentle hand from the crown of her head, over the brown silk of her hair, down to the nape of her neck. He moved his mouth to the other side of her face, pressing his lips against her other cheek; her face beginning to glow with a mystifying red warmth that he couldn't turn away from.

He placed his warm and softly weathered hands on her cheeks, hesitantly suspended over her expectant lips that were so slightly parted. Gibbs could feel her delicate breath mix with his as he looked to her lips and then up to her eyes. Her focus was on his mouth, as she stood still and balanced, waiting for him to take the next step. She shuddered and hung on this moment, spellbound and aching towards him like an unforgiving magnet that she just had no control over. Kate looked as if she might simply break.

The shrill ring of Gibbs cell echoed and broke the spell as their eyes met momentarily. Kate took a step back and carefully crossed her arms in front of her chest, dipping her head down as her hair fell into her face. Gibbs watched her retreat and swallowed as he slid the phone out of his pocket and irritably snapped it open, never once taking his eyes from her form. Damn thing never works in the elevator when he _wants_ it to.

"_Gibbs_." He grumbled. He looked down to his shoes and then back up to Kate. "Yeah, Abs. She's okay. Right. Uhuh. Yeah... I'll send her down." He clasped the phone shut as he shoved it back into his pants pocket. Gibbs took a moment and let the air lighten between them before speaking. He took a step and placed a hand on Kate's shoulder as he hit the Emergency, throwing the elevator back into motion.

"Abby has something for you." He spoke low and hoarse.

Her arms tightened across her chest as she looked up to him with a slightly heavy heart; placing on the mask of pleasant professionalism, she smiled sad and sweet, nodding as she looked back down to the cold elevator floor.

The lift came to a stop at the lab and Kate stepped out, looking back at him before the doors shut between them— her eyes shone, as she wiped a few stray tears from her darkened eyes. Taking her open palm, she touched her fingers to her lips and gently brought her hand forward, away from her mouth. Gibbs smirked softly, his eyebrows raised slightly as he looked to the floor, the elevator doors closing between them.

Abby bounced over with a little smile on her face as she looked from Kate to the elevator.

"What'd you thank the G-man for..?"

Kate smiled and looked over to her friend before walking over to Abby's lab table.

"For watching my six." she said lightly, thankful for the few signing lessons Abby had given her so many months ago.

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	2. Chapter 2

A/N: This (mostly towards the end of this chapter) is the first in a slight series of rewrites involving this story--- sorry it's taken me so long O.o I'm going to try and post newish-ness soon. Go back and reread [Ain't Nothing But a Family Thing] if you need a refresher... I know I did LoL [Soss]

2

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At the end of a reasonably uneventful day, they were the very last to leave. Gibbs walked alongside Kate on the black asphalt towards their cars, strolling slowly, holding back his pace in order to keep in step with her shorter strides. He glanced over at her every so often, but didn't engage. Despite the erratic confrontation of the early morning, she remained unruffled and distant throughout the day, but not frustratingly so. Just... quiet.

As they reached the first of their cars, Gibbs put a hand at her elbow, gracefully bringing her to a stop and turning her towards him. Her eyebrows lifted in mute anticipation.

"I think you should go home this weekend." He grumbled softly, his eyes drifting down to a vacant spot on her bare neck before focusing on her graciously exposed collar bone.

Kate's brow furrowed. She vaguely nodded through the end of her sentence before trailing off in slight confusion. "I.. _am_ going home…?"

His eyes widened slightly before looking upwards, disbelieving her emotional attention span could ever be that short. And he gave her a look that said-so, adding slowly, "**Home**-home, Kate. You know… middle-of-_no_where, home?"

She lifted a defiant eyebrow as her lips pursed in amused annoyance. "It's _not_ the middle-of-nowhere, Gibbs, and I—" But Kate stopped, looking down to her shoes before looking up to his concerned bewilderment. She considered him for a long moment; raking her eyes lazily over his face, noting the strange delight in the pressure of his fingertips still clutching her arm.

"I.. I think..." she mumbled gently, "you should come over for dinner." Kate's lips frowned softly with an inner contemplation. She reached a hand up to his shoulder; watching her own fingers delicately brush a piece of fuzz from his coat before sliding her hand down his jacket lapel. She patted his sports jacket before removing her palm from his chest and hooking her thumb on her purse strap. Looking up to him with a tilt of her head and a sad, hesitant smile, she brought her other hand up and rubbed the back of her neck as she continued quickly:

"I've been cooking, _so_ much food.. every night.. and just.. _throwing_ most of it away," she chuckled lightly, shaking her head. "Never realized how _completely_ impossible it is to actually cook for one person." She smiled casually as a warm blush began to paint her cheeks from the chilling autumn winds that blustered through the garage.

Gibbs drew out the silence, making her wait, letting the butterflies of doubt that started in her stomach drift up to her throat. Taking and stretching another breathy second, he leisurely wet his lips.

"Well... what's for dinner?" He murmured gruffly.

Kate slowly drew her lips into a mirthful little smile.

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Dinner was quiet and exactly what Gibbs had expected from her. Kate was mildly reserved, but had still engaged him somewhat comfortably at patchy intervals; mostly regarding work and the case they had just finished, but nothing much deeper than that. Gibbs couldn't get past how good the food was; asking her repeatedly through the meal with a little smirk, whether or not she had really made it. Kate would only smile and tell them that there was plenty more of it on the stove.

After cleaning up dinner's mess in silence, they eventually wandered into the living room, not entirely knowing what to do with themselves. Kate opted to grab a couple bottles of beer from the back of the fridge, from behind all the Tupperware upon Tupperware of leftovers. Holding the bottles by their dark, glass necks, she handed one to Gibbs over the back of the couch as she came around and sat on the floor between the couch and the coffee table. Her shoulder brushed against the side of his knee as she leaned back against the bottom of the sofa. She broke the steady silence while he took a careful swig of beer.

"I wish I didn't have to go alone." she nodded and murmured thoughtfully, staring blankly into the space ahead of her. "…if I went back home. Even just for a couple of days, you know.. The thought of going there alone—"

"I'm sure you wouldn't be alone." He gruffed gently, carefully interrupting her.

She sighed heavily with a slump of her shoulders, knocking back the rest of her beer and sliding the empty bottle onto the coffee table in front of her. Gibbs watched the internal debate that was playing out inside of her; through her body language and her sad, desperate tone of peculiar wonder and indifference. He started quietly tearing at his beer label when she turned her head towards him.

"What would you do, Gibbs."

His brow creased at this question, keeping his steady focus on his beer bottle— unsure if she was looking for real advice, or a reason, any reason he could give her that would validate removing herself from a situation that he felt, in his gut, would ultimately end in a way not meant for the goodness of his Caitlin. And he knew that she knew. He imagined she had already played out this particular movie in her head, and all of its possible endings.

Gibbs repositioned himself on the couch, sliding forward until he was seated on the edge of the cushion, his knees bent and apart, resting against the coffee table. He laid his forearms on his thighs, clasping his hands together between his open knees.

"I can't tell you what to do, Kate.. You know that." His voice was low and soft, but held a slight tone of authority. She gave a low chuckle. Gibbs frowned a little, unsure if he hadn't heard a little bit of anger in it.

"You'll go behind my back and be covertly evasive with my personal life, but you won't give me advice?" Her voice rose ever so slightly as it also rose in pitch at the end. She was looking up at him now, with eyes of strange disbelief.

His hands unclasped as he spoke, shaking them openly in a gesture of frustration, speaking as much with his movements as he did with his words. "I **can't**… give you advice… not _won't, _Kate."

He suddenly wanted to take her by the shoulders and shake her, tell her that if he could save her from this, he would, over and over and over. Keeping his astonished irritation in check, realizing that it was his own sense of helplessness that angered him, just as much as it was angering her, he quickly moved and sat opposite his seat on the couch, perching on the edge of the coffee table. Resuming his hunched posture, he leaned down a little closer towards her, his forearms on his knees, his face close to hers.

"Don't you think.. that if I had advice that I thought would.. help… that I'd give it to you?" His face was creased with lines of disbelief; his eyebrows pushed up and together in a very thin mask of hurt, while his voice just a little more than a deep, incredulous whisper.

Kate searched his face and seeing the truth that it held, she exhaled deeply and dropped her eyes away from him. Turning her torso back towards the coffee table, she leaned over and rested her forehead on the smooth cherry wood with a huffed sigh.

Gibbs was at a loss. He hadn't prepared himself for her swings of indifference to sarcasm to anger to indifference. Crying, sobbing, questioning the meaning of life and why bad things happen— _that_ he anticipated. But this... she suddenly reminded him very much of— himself.

His mouth opened and closed several times before he resigned to keeping silent. Gibbs sighed and ran a slow hand down the back of her head, carefully squeezing the tense muscle at the base of her neck. He then skimmed his hand underneath and through her soft hair, methodically repeating the action, returning to her roots and slowly pulling his fingers through the silk until it fell from his gentle grasp. She groaned in pleasure once he started playing with her hair.

"I'll fall asleep right here if you keep doing that, Gibbs." Came her low and muffled response to his affectionate actions. He smirked slightly at this.

"Oh yeah?" he quipped lightly, bringing his hand to her scalp and gently massaging with rough fingertips. He took another sip of beer with his other hand and smiled just a little bit wider when she groaned her approval.

"Oh.. _yeah_…" She sighed her content as he continued his soft ministrations. When she groaned a third time, he cleared his throat and ran his hand down to her shoulder, giving her a gentle squeeze before breaking his hold on her. She "Mmm'd" out of acknowledgment and disappointment at the loss of Gibbs' new found talent— she exhaled deeply before bringing her head up and looking to him with a nervous smile.

"Thanks.. Gibbs."

He merely nodded and took another drink, not quite emptying the bottle.

They sat in silence, in the dark, not quite facing each other, but still dangerously close, despite Kate still being on the floor by his feet. She tentatively leaned her head on his knee, her cheek lying against the soft fabric of black material, secretly hoping for his nurturing fingers to return.

His heart broke and swelled at once with this gesture. He guided a finger underneath her chin, bringing her head up and tilting her face in order to see her clearly. As clearly as he could in the dim light that filtered in through the kitchen as the sun set through the living room's picture window.

"I would go." His voice was gravel. Thick and rusty, she could hear the emotion behind his words; emotion for her, emotion for his past. "I would go see my family…"

Kate nodded silently, and in last remnants of the sun's light before dusk he could see the tears beginning to form at the corners of her eyes. Holding her chin between his thumb and forefinger, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss to her forehead before pressing another to the top of her head, murmuring, "You will not be alone."

The tears ran away from her as she gracefully, quickly sat up, kneeling on the floor and snaking her arms around Gibbs' waist, burying her face into his side. He tried to hug her, as best he could from his awkward angle, but settled on a steady hand on her shoulder and a steady hand that rubbed soft, firm circles on her back.

He wasn't quite sure whether he was trying to convince her, or himself, as he roughly whispered: "You will _not_ be alone."

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	3. Chapter 3

3

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Gibbs leaned down awkwardly from his perch on the coffee table and carefully wrapped his large hands around her waist, lifting her effortlessly to sit on the couch in front of him. Untangling her arms from around his middle, he held her hands between them, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

Kate's head was bent, her tears slowed, but her breathing was deep and quick while she desperately tried to compose herself— tried to haul back the flood before she lost control of it all over again. _Gibbs_ _deserves more than that_, she thought sharply as she swallowed potential tears, _he shouldn't have to tend to his half-cocked, emotional agent_. She stole her hands away from Gibbs, rubbing them on her thighs as she began to recover command of her breathing— deep and slow, calm and controlled.

Gibbs placed one hand over hers, raising the other to cradle her cheek, capturing and cupping strands of hair to her face in the process. As she finally found the strength to lift her head, tho her eyes had fluttered shut, the need that filtered between them in their silence became palpable, making her dizzy and disrupting the mechanism that would normally sift her thoughts from her speech.

"You— are.. my family. You _do_ know that.. right..?" Kate opened her eyes, gracefully nodded and stumbled matter-of-factly through her words after carefully mulling over his guidance: _I would go see my family_… She was not quite sure _why_ she had said it, but had felt a very real need for it to be spoken. It was a simple statement. Of thanks, of love, of simple fact. It wasn't something she was expecting a reaction to, or a response or an acknowledgment that the feeling was returned. Her question was rhetorical, because she already knew that it was mutual, in the way his thumb faintly stroked her skin as he held her cheek in the palm of his hand.

Gibbs brow rose in surprise as his face fell in an awe of fascination, his lips slightly parted. She didn't think that she had ever seen so much raw emotion in his features before, even during the times he thought no one was looking, even through some of their most ruthless cases. The almost invisible wetness in his eyes did not go by unnoticed by Kate before he quickly slid his hand from her cheek to the back of her head, drawing her against him for a tight embrace. Hiding the moisture at the corners of his eyes, hiding the surprised maelstrom of emotion that snuck up on him and crept across his face, he casually buried it in her hair. She slid her hands up the side of his arms and gripped the shoulders of his shirt; hiding her face in the crook of his neck, peering over his shoulder at the very last of visage of dusk with damp eyes.

Her heart swelled when he pressed another soft kiss into her hair.

After a pause, "Want some dessert…" was mumbled into his shirt.

A low rumble sounded from his chest— pulling away from her slightly, she could see the impish smirk tugging at his lips that accompanied the suggestively raised eyebrow. All emotion, except his taunting, innuendo-covered, dirty mind, had vanished from his face. Kate huffed away any remaining sorrow from her demeanor as she rolled her eyes and softly smacked his chest with open palms. He smiled lightly. Gibbs knew sweet-talk teasing was in bad taste with bad timing, but somehow he knew it would be well-received. A slight relief swept through him at the sudden lightening of the atmosphere. She would talk about her mother when she was ready, and he intuitively felt that she wasn't.

She stood up from the couch, but abruptly realized that trying to walk away would be difficult. Looking down at their close proximity, Kate motioned to the fact that her stance was confined between Gibbs' knees, trapping her between the sofa and his unyielding body.

"Do you mind..?" she quipped lightly, with her own Gibb-ish teasing bite of sarcasm.

Gibbs leaned back slightly on the coffee table, placing his hands behind him and looking up to her with warm curiosity. Glancing away briefly as if in careful thought, he slowly shook his head and turned a corner of his mouth downward in deliberate consideration: "Nope."

Kate sighed and lowered her head, placing two defiant hands on both hips. She snuck her eyes to him underneath her brow and a thin section of hair that loosely fell in her face. He saw her small smile before he gently squeezed her legs between his knees. Kate inhaled in surprise at almost losing her balance, her hands skirting to his shoulders which placed her chest in a very precarious position. Gibbs' smirk returned graciously. Kate slapped at his shoulder again and awkwardly maneuvered out of his leg lock, nearly tripping and losing her footing altogether in the process. She frowned and ran a composing hand through her hair.

"You're spending too much time with Tony." She mumbled, shaking her head and smoothing her clothes as she walked into the kitchen.

Gibbs smiled at her retreating form before getting to his feet and sliding his hands into his pockets. He leisurely followed her path into the kitchen.

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He planted himself on one of her kitchen counters, legs crossed at the ankles, casually swinging his feet. With one hand on the counter and one hand holding the handle of a silver spoon, Gibbs rolled his tongue around the chocolate batter coated utensil inside his mouth. He watched Kate intently as she moved around the kitchen, having just put a rather large chocolate cake in the oven.

Gibbs slowly pulled the spoon out of his mouth long enough to drawl, "You expecting company, Kate..?" before popping the spoon back in his mouth, his cheeks hollowing as he sucked away the rest of the chocolate, his eyebrows perked in amusement.

She slipped a dirty bowl into the sink with a small smile. Turning towards him and leaning up against the fridge, she crossed her arms in front of her chest and tipped her head to one side. Her eyes quietly roved over his face, taking special note of the child-like expression that spread over his rough features, somehow overshadowing the careful lines that crinkled at the corners of his eyes. She sighed warmly; steadily watching one another seemed to become less and less uncomfortable with each staring match—something Kate found necessary to get used to, as Gibbs was of a special breed of silent communicators. And to not be able to communicate well with Gibbs, while not entirely uncommon for most, it usually proved for trouble in the end— Kate doggedly tried to learn most of his unique signals and felt that, for the most part, she was successful. But here, in the safety of her kitchen, with no case, no work, no need for reading of special agent minds, she bathed in the unusual attention and basked in her improved ability of communicating with Gibbs for an entirely different purpose.

She smiled a little wider when he finally cleaned the spoon and held it up in triumph. "That.. was good." He murmured deep and appreciatively, leaning over and carefully dropping the spoon into the sink with the rest of the dishes. Before he realized, Kate stood in front of him with two open Tupperware containers, offering to him their delicious smelling contents. Placing a finger on the edge of one container, he tilted it towards him, peering inside and promptly raising an eyebrow before looking up to her.

"You just made, one of the biggest cakes _I've_ ever seen.. and you have brownies.. and cookies?" he questioned slowly. Kate just shrugged.

"I've been busy…" she answered, faintly shaking the containers at him, urging him to take some. He eyed her cautiously before snatching two cookies and a brownie, immediately popping an entire chocolate chip in his mouth as she turned her back to return the plentiful sweets to their place on the opposite counter.

"I have muffins, too." She piped up, "But I guess they're more, early morning dessert, right?" She chuckled low and nervous.

He continued to watch her movements and gestures, her posture and the way her hands moved; he watched as she stole a cookie from the container before snapping the lid back on just so. He could still see her cracking beneath the surface- her nervous energy and quick movements, her sad smiles and minor swings of indifference, the pleading look he could see behind her eyes that asked him not to make her talk about it: it was almost creating a separate entity that gently encased his Caitlin. Gibbs deduced that she was cooking out of a need for therapy, or at least using mass food preparation as some sort of defense or coping mechanism. As he popped the second cookie into his mouth, he decided he rather enjoyed this particular quirk of hers. Despite the tragedy behind her efforts. She hopped up onto the counter space beside him, interrupting his thoughts as her thigh grazed his. Now sitting shoulder to shoulder, Kate nibbled on her cookie.

The silence was comfortable, but Gibbs could feel her become slightly restless beside him; fidgeting and crossing her legs, lightly bouncing her foot. He was about to comment on her impressive baking abilities when she spoke suddenly:

"I think I make her sad..." Kate revealed bluntly, adding in clarification: "my mother." She spoke as if discussing case facts rather than her family. He took mental note of this and tucked it away, becoming bent on listening to her attentively. She turned her head to look at him, unexpectedly catching his eyes. She shrugged and went back to her cookie as she continued, breaking a little piece off and popping it into her mouth.

"Well," she said in between chews, "I think _she_ thinks that she makes _me_ sad, which _then_ makes her sad..." Kate took a glance at Gibbs to see if he comprehended her quick rambling thought which was slowly answered with a vague bobbing of his head. Kate nodded in silent agreement as she finished her cookie.

A few moments passed before Gibbs spoke. He brushed the brownie crumbs from his hands and onto the counter as he leaned forward, leaning his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands under his chin. He turned and tilted his head slightly to look at her.

"This happened before..?" he prompted softly.

Kate looked at him for a beat, a pale sadness flashing across her face before she nodded, taking his cue.

"I was in college.." she uncrossed and re-crossed her legs towards him, moving her hands to the countertop to keep her steady. "Moved back home and transferred to a local university." She raised and focused her eyes on his. "It was.. the saddest.. and most difficult time in my entire life." Her voice was deep and tight, full of pauses, thick and on the verge of cracking until she swallowed deeply and wet her lips. She looked away from him. "My brothers and my sister.. they couldn't.. wouldn't come home like I did.. so involved in their own families, or too young to really be of any help… so it was me and Dad, for an entire two years of…" she chuckled, soft and sad, "I don't even know what you'd call it, Gibbs." She looked over to him again and gently smiled, her eyes flickering with their own internal memoirs.

Gibbs nodded slowly, digesting her brief, Cliff Notes-esque history. He raised his arm and ran his tender palm over the back of her head. His hand drifted down and gently tried to rub some measure of reassurance against her upper back before squeezing her opposite shoulder. He grumbled affectionately, as only Gibbs could, bringing her closer and tucking her into his side with his arm slung about her shoulders. Kate tilted and leaned her head on his shoulder with a soft sigh, memorizing the friction of his hand against her upper arm. She leaned into him fully yet with a trace of caution as her rational mind began to shut down; her consciousness fading into a dark blur of afterthoughts and muddled memories as the gentle, repetitive motion of his hand sent her into a drowsy, wistful trance. She tucked herself further into his side, careful not to inadvertently slide off the countertop.

Gibbs felt her breathing even out and he ducked his head to see her heavy lids had finally closed; he nodded to no one and grinned sadly. He knew she was tired, but he never figured her to be one to be able to fall asleep sitting up—he thought only he held that particular talent.

Expertly keeping her upright as he slid down from his elevated seat, he carefully maneuvered Kate in order to pick her up with an arm under her knees and the other supporting her back, cradling her small frame close to his chest. He wandering with her down the dark hallway, finding her bedroom and toed the door open as he walked her inside. Putting her to bed and kneeling beside the mattress, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and ran a slow hand down her blanket-covered shoulder. Gibbs sighed heavily at her sleeping face, wishing she could have that kind of peace when she awoke in the morning-- turning to thoughts of what she looked like awaking in the morning. Faintly shaking his head, he knew that wouldn't be the case and he ran a rough hand down his face as he stood up from the side of her bed. He wondered worriedly about the reception she would get when she returned home as he returned to his agent's kitchen to wait patiently on the bell for Kate's cake.

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	4. Chapter 4

4

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Kate bent down over Gibbs' sleeping face and stared at his closed eye lids, fully and freely appreciating his peaceful appearance. The serenity of him was unnerving and fascinating; so much so, that she could not stop her fingers from reaching up and brushing against his brow, smooth and visually unusual without his familiar lines of stress and worry. Her fingertips swept his cheek as his lips quirked silently in his sleep. Kate faltered slightly, waiting for him to awake—when he didn't, she slowly brought her other hand to his opposite cheek and bent closer to her forbidden intent.

She wanted to forget. She wanted to lose herself in something that made her feel safe, loved-- something that made her stop thinking… without guilt. Just looking at Gibbs' sleeping face made her feel safe and very often, made her brain shut down. Kate barely touched her lips to his, observing him closely, as she delicately ran her small hands to the sides of his neck. She continued to watch him as she pressed her lips a bit firmer. His brow perked and began to slightly crease in sleep-filled confusion.

Gibbs had fallen asleep, sitting on her couch—having taken her therapy cake safely out of the oven and made sure all kitchen appliances were off and the dishes were away. He had just intended on sitting for a few minutes, to make absolutely sure Kate had successfully fallen asleep and wouldn't wake up to an empty apartment so soon.

He cracked a sleepy and suspicious eye to investigate the steady weight that situated itself against his lips and on his shoulders, trying desperately to determine whether or not he was actually awake. Seeing what he hazily presumed to be Kate's face, he opened the other eye and stared in speechless disorientation and disbelief.

Kate pulled away, just enough to meet his stare, but not enough to really disengage. She positioned herself on the cushion beside him, her hands sliding off his shoulders as she swallowed deeply.

"I couldn't sleep." She whispered after quickly wetting her lips.

"Sleepin' pretty good.. last I looked…" he gruffed drowsily; Kate could hear the soft tone of amusement hidden underneath. She took careful advantage of the fact that he hadn't sprung to action to put any remarkable distance between them—she faintly parted her lips as she pressed a soft, wary kiss to the side of his mouth. There was nothing Kate wanted more than to creep into his lap, to wrap around him, to be utterly and thoroughly consumed in him, consuming her. But she didn't want to scare him, didn't want to make him remember where they were, or who they were— or why they were there.

Gibbs silently answered her unspoken prayers— with strong hands wrapping around her waist, suddenly tugging at her and pulling her across his lap, her dark blue sweat pants melting into his black slacks. Kate hummed and sinuously straddled his waist, softly squeezing his hips with the blunt strength of her thighs. She kissed him again, now with a purpose and a strength that made his body thrum and soften beneath her; she slowly, teasingly nipped at the edges of his upper lip as he lazily pulled at her bottom lip.

He didn't understand how this could be happening, but he didn't have enough brain power to care, or to think about caring, or to wake up if this was in fact a dream. A wonderful dream.

Kate put her hands on his shoulders and softly broke away from him, gently sucking at his lower lip, pained as she pulled her mouth away. With her chest dreamily heaving from a desperate lack of oxygen, she gazed at him with large, dusky eyes— she swallowed heavily; gulping down in shallow breaths all the lust, all the love, all the strong desire she held for this man. If she hadn't been burning within this one moment, her feelings would have frightened her beyond measure— but this was Gibbs. She was safe.

"I'm not that girl…" Kate murmured breathlessly. She slid her hands down from his shoulder to his chest. Her eyes darting from a spot on the wall behind him, to his ear, down to his stomach, and repeated. Her words tumbled out of her mouth in a rapid succession that she simply couldn't control:

"I'm not… I'm not that _vulnerable_ girl who takes advantage of being weak... of your sympathy.. Gibbs, I… I'm just…" her voice faded and trailed into an inaudible whisper of dark uncertainty. The dim light from the couch's end table illuminated her face in warm, shadowy waves as wisps of dark hair framed her flushed cheeks.

Gibbs slowly ran his hands from her elbows to her shoulders, watching her face underneath faintly peaked eyebrows of anticipation. He was definitely awake now.

Kate perked her brow and widened her eyes in a silent expressive emphasis before whispering, "I'm not that girl, Gibbs…"

His reaction was delayed for a beat, but it began as a low rumble in his throat: "I _believe_ you..." His husky, syrupy tone was laced with a fuzzy disbelief that she could possibly consider that he'd think that of her. Perhaps the circumstance made her more susceptible— made them vulnerable to underlying embers that threatened their careful, everyday symmetry. But in the back of his mind, he refused to believe that she'd jump just anyone. He wouldn't believe it.

When Kate recognized a dark flicker of faith and reassurance in his eyes, her mouth crashed against him again, demanding and intense, entwined with her warm and indescribable need for contact. He obliged her openly. As he softly parted his lips, she delicately cupped his face, slowing herself down and fluidly pulling and pressing at his lips. Their tongues met tentatively, Gibbs allowing her as much or as little access as she craved; he let her hold the reins on her unspoken quest for his closeness and his comfort.

Gibbs let her take control, but he certainly wasn't prepared to sit idly by while Kate's small, eager body writhed in his lap. Sliding and squeezing his rough hands along her sides, rubbing around to her back and down to her thighs, he gave her constant, shallow bursts of steady encouragement as he gently mellowed her zealous intensity.

She pulled her mouth away and pressed her cheek to his, her mouth open and eyes closed in a silent awe of feeling. Her soft groan both startled and energized him as she gently ground her hips against his—he growled in return, but knew this couldn't happen, that he had to slow her down. When he laid a gentle hand on her stomach and lightly pushed her from him, he felt a strange wetness between his fingers. Looking up to her with dark concern crinkling his eyes and creasing his brow, she looked down to her own hands covering his. Slowly tipping her hands away from her, she revealed the stark redness that stained her palms. Kate gazed back up to him with a pained confusion that tore at him; she rasped out, "… Gibbs…?"

He gasped so deeply, it shook him awake. Gibbs looked around feverishly, noting that he was still in Kate's apartment, on the couch, and fortunately, or unfortunately (he couldn't entirely decide upon which), Kate was no where near his lap—but a goose down blanket was...

He heard a soft sniff which turned his attention towards the small, dark figure curled up in the arm chair next to the sofa. Gibbs gave a small smile as he saw she had taken the covers from her bed and wandered into the living room. Then, incidentally, he found a pillow behind his head that he was certain wasn't there when he had dozed, and his smile grew. He leaned over to pull Kate's blanket up and around her shoulders, smoothing her hair from the crown of her head to the side of her neck. He could have sworn he heard her slur and murmur "Love you, Gibbs.." but he chalked it up to his own wishful imagination.

Gibbs restlessly tried to rid himself of the gruesome end to his incredible dream, leaning against the back of the couch with a sigh, studying Kate silently as he again began to doze. He grumbled lightly in his mind, knowing that he'd be aching in the morning. But if it meant sleeping next to real life, secret dream… well, he had certainly suffered worse losses than a sore neck.

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	5. Chapter 5

5

Gibbs left her apartment before the sun rose, but not before carefully moving her small form to the couch and covering her with the blanket she had graced upon him in the middle of the night. There was a slight chill throughout the apartment, one that predicted the stiff coolness that met him once he left her building. He felt bad about leaving her alone, but he would see her soon enough over the partition between their desks. And after his unexpected dreams of her throughout the night, facing her beautiful bed head, soft puffy eyes and sleep creased clothes… it wasn't something he thought he would be able to handle with too much grace or an adequate amount of indifference. These past few months had pulled at them, for better and for worse, but inevitably brought them closer— they both knew it, but hadn't discussed it formally, and he couldn't honestly deny that their familiarity with one another hadn't grown. But if his dream held any indication, he couldn't afford to be _that_ close… as much as he painfully wanted to. Even if the wonderful nightmare had simply been a subconscious metaphor— Kate getting hurt, mentally, physically, or otherwise, was much too real of a possibility for Gibbs to ignore. He sighed in resignation, popping the collar of his coat up and around his neck as he shielded himself from the winds that assailed him along the short walk to his car.

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The week dragged on for the both of them. However when Friday morning finally came, it was unexpected and without warning, finding Kate miserable and alone and feeling horribly hung-over— despite not having had anything to drink since the night with Gibbs. She sat dejected and empty at the edge of her bed: mussed hair, wrinkled t-shirt, rumpled sheets and blankets standing as fragmented testimony to her restless, sleepless night.

She had handed in her request for a single personal day the morning after her late-night dinner with Gibbs; in spite of the short notice, the request had been immediately accepted by the Director. She couldn't help but wonder if her obstinate, over-protective, interfering boss had a hand in greasing the wheels before she had even put pen to paper. Her mind at once turned to her recent dreams of him—fierce and more frequent than usual, and considerably more real— her spotty memories of her dreams played on a sweet and brilliant tape loop; one where she mentally edited and cropped the sadness from her mind and erased each moment where she had woken up.

Her silent Gibbs movie was set on replay until a distant knocking brought her back into the cold reality of the morning with a sharp intake of breath. She finally realized that someone was at her front door, knocking continually and rather impatiently at rapid intervals. Kate's eyes snapped to the clock before she cursed softly beneath her breath— she had overslept, the car service to take her to the airport was already waiting. Swiftly rising from the bed, she grabbed a pair of blue jerzey shorts off her bedroom floor, skillfully yanking them on as she quickly hopped and padded down the cold hall. The knocking continued.

"I'm _coming_, I'm coming!" she croaked out, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she moved hurriedly through the living room, nearly tripping over her small suitcase she had set behind the couch the night before.

Kate quickly began spewing apologies as she opened the door, ready to send the driver away and just call a cab for the ride she needed, but she was instantly silenced mid-sentence once her eyes came to focus. Gibbs stood before her, slowly retracting his fist mid-knock; clothed in dark blue jeans and a crisp black button-down, he clasped his hands behind his back. She stared at him blankly, brow furrowed, lips somewhat parted in a sleepy expression of beautiful and bemused awe; she watched as his head tilted and his eyes gently roved over her barely dressed form. His eyes wound back up and stared into hers, his eyebrows weighing down in concerned impatience.

"You're not dressed." He confirmed gruffly, trying not to think about running a rough palm up the back of her thigh to see if those shorts were really as short as they seemed. When she didn't answer, or make a move to say anything at all, he put a large hand on her shoulder and slowly persuaded her back into her apartment, shutting the door behind him.

"I sent away the towncar you had waiting, if that's what you were rambling about.." Gibbs mumbled as he walked her into the living room. Kate came back to reality for a second time that morning and faintly shook her head.

"Yeah I.. are you… what—?" she began to murmur incoherently, but her voice fell away as his eyes burned through hers, steady and challenging. His stare reflected an unwavering, authoritative sense of affection; his own powerful, silent communication. He looked down to his watch before lifting his eyes back to her waiting face, taking a small step towards her. Gibbs lifted his eyebrows and slightly nodded his head to her, never taking his eyes away.

"You'd better get ready... Yer plane leaves in an hour, Kate.." his voice was soft but firm, taking on all of his worry, but leaving little room for negotiation.

Her eyes fell to his shoulder as she carefully wrapped her arms around herself, her posture caving into a stance of nervous reconsideration —he saw the wheels turning in her head as she tried to think of a last minute way out of this— her shoulders slumped slightly forward when no excuse came. She sighed and bobbed her head robotically.

"Yeah... yeah." She looked up to him and nodded, this time more definitive and strong. Her shaky countenance was slowly replaced with that of the agent he hired. She began to brush past him towards the bathroom when he slid his hand securely around her upper arm, tugging her to a gentle stop. She looked up to him with widened eyes and an expression of 'what gives?'

Kate didn't realize how close they were until she felt his warm breath on her cheek, and the potent cologne of mint and coffee and all that was Gibbs tumbled on her; they stood perpendicular to one another— Gibbs tugged her to him gently, bringing her shoulder into his chest as she still faced slightly away from him. He leaned into her just enough to crowd her attention as his lips nearly grazed her ear.

"If yer gonna go this weekend, you have to go now…" he gently murmured to her, his words immediately melting into a soft spot on her neck that made her shudder, "We've got a case… and I'm here.. supposed to be bringing you back to the office.." his voice rasped, "but you're _going_ to the airport and yer _getting_ on this damn plane.. and I'm going to have _just_... _missed_ you… understood?"

He nudged her gently when she didn't respond; taking his hand from her arm and slowly bringing it down to hover over the small of her back. Kate gave him a few quick nods— moved by his rebellion, she couldn't bring herself to face him.

"You understand why you _have_ to go, Kate…" she just nodded in reply until he added, "…and why I couldn't possibly.. come with you.." his words tickled her ear as he looked straight ahead, peering over the crown of her head. Her face snapped up to his in startled confusion—was he really that good? Had he honestly seen through her that clearly, down to her most emotionally buried, unspoken request... something that she would've _never_ dared asked him. Her breath caught in her throat as he brought his hand back up her back and gently squeezed the base of her neck with a massaging reassurance. She turned her face towards him and nodded slowly.

"Yeah.." she whispered.

Gibbs bowed his head and pressed his lips against her temple, warm, soft, and moist, lingering there while he squeezed her shoulder. Suddenly wanting to stop everything and cry with the gesture, she squeezed her eyes shut. Leaning into his chest before letting out a sigh and looking up to him, she tried not to focus on the dreams of him that snuck into her peripheral vision.

"I have to get ready.." she mumbled softly, slowly retreating from him. Her eyes played lingeringly with his as she walked backwards down the hallway. She tilted her head at him before disappearing into the bathroom, giving him a vaguely playful look, her voice strong and low: "Make some coffee will ya?"

Kate ducked into the bathroom, leaving Gibbs slightly amused, on his own, nodding and sighing to no one.

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	6. Chapter 6

6

The ride to the airport was silent and somewhat strained— the space between them equally drew the two apart as it desperately pulled them together. Too many heated emotions suddenly began running under their surface to act accordingly— too many to accept, realize, or rationally think about, at least not under the circumstance that pitilessly pressed down on them both. Kate couldn't concentrate on either Gibbs or her mother at the same time: feeling that both situations needed her undivided, absolute attention, despite her increasingly scattered brain.

And Gibbs, well, he just didn't feel right. He was getting too involved, too involved in her personal life— and too fixed in the feeling that he needed to be involved. But Gibbs knew that any move or gesture he could make, or had already made, would be wrong… If he continued on this track, his concern and attachment to her could be emotionally fatal— for both of them. If he backed away from her, however slowly, it could be emotionally fatal for completely different reasons. He didn't want to bait her, lead her on or turn her away…whether she was willing to admit her vulnerability or not, he didn't want to hurt her— especially when she was already hurting to begin with.

Neither fully trusted their tongues with what was surely to be a haphazard verbalization of timid inner monologues. Gibbs? Timid? He didn't even want to think about it… not too hard, anyway, as his fingers flexed tensely on the steering wheel.

As the car rolled to a red light, Gibbs felt her shift uncertainly beside him. He cast a slow, sideways glance towards her, vigilantly looking over and cataloging her body language from the corner of his eye. Kate's hands nervously toyed with the buttons on her coat as she stared absently out the passenger-side window. His soft, sharp voice brought her back to earth:

"Hey…"

Rough and intrusive in the delicate silence that had been filling the car, his tone was not without its gentle edges. It was the back of his hand nudging against her thigh that made her look over, their eyes meeting for an agonizing few seconds before the light turned green. Kate continued to watch and study his profile as he turned from her reluctantly and continued driving.

She hesitantly dropped her gaze to her lap with an inward sigh— she heard, felt, and saw his implicit inquiry of her wellbeing, and with the small gesture, she began to feel a little more at ease. Her stomach still churned with all the inevitability and emotional discomfort of the trip she was about to take— it reminded her of how she had felt as a kid during a drive to the doctor or on the way to school without her homework: edgy and unbearably helpless. But somehow, Gibbs started to take the edge off. She knew he cared, but her heart swelled whenever he showed it—even when it was subtle, even when it was unspoken, and especially when he tried not to.

They lapsed back into the emotive silence that seemed to dominate the drive. Kate's thoughts returned to the strangled memories and restless mentality of her past— remembering the loneliness, the hopelessness, the intolerable burdens that consumed her younger self, both mentally and physically. Her eyes drifted back to her riding companion, just stopping at his hand that rested loosely on the shifter. Her heart felt a little lighter with the notion of maybe not being so alone this time around.

Kate turned her head towards Gibbs more directly once she felt the car stop. It was the end of the road; and she panicked slightly at the fact that once she got on that flight, she'd be on her own again. Gibbs or no Gibbs. But she pushed down the rising fear that threatened her and faced him head on, putting a light and airy smile on her face. He watched her with concerned anticipation.

"Thanks, Gibbs. Thank you.." Kate's voice was warm and low; her tone clear and crisp. She nodded faintly. Her smile did little to hide her sadness, but covered her cracks and crumbling resolve quite nicely. Too bad he didn't need to see them to know they were there.

"I appreciate _everything_.. you've done for me and, well," she paused with an air of hesitation, slightly tilting her head to one side; a delicate grin momentarily stopping her words from flowing as her eyes softly crinkled at him. Her tone became stronger, more like the Kate he knew. "I was wrong about you, Gibbs."

His brow furrowed as he leaned back in his seat.

"_Oh_?" He spoke rough and uncertain. Her smile finally reached her eyes with his response and she nodded again.

"Yeah." Her lips pursed faintly as her mouth screwed up into a tight smirk, shaking her head gently:

"You're _not…_ a good guy, Gibbs." His eyebrows lifted in question and surprise as she continued. She leaned carefully into his space, placing a gentle, hesitant hand on the side of his face as she brought her cheek inches from his, murmuring deep and innocent by his ear: "You're a _great_ guy…"

If she wasn't so close, she would have noticed the fresh reddening that warmed his face as he hazily recalled their drunken conversation from weeks ago well, Kate's drunken conversation: _You're a _**_good_**_ guy Leroy... Jethro, Gibbs…_ he clearly remembered her warm slurs and the way she intoxicatingly murmured his name and the soft mix of scotch and lavender.

The lavender rose to meet him again-- before she reluctantly pulled away from him in the car, she removed her cheek from his and pressed a moist kiss to his slightly stubbled upper jaw. She met his gaze as she drew away from him, skirting her eyes to his cheek with a dim but humored smile as she rubbed away with the soft pad of her thumb the rose-colored lip gloss that faintly stained his skin. Her eyes flitted back to his, crystal and clear with a hint of lingering darkness; she nodded and gently patted his cheek. Unbuckling her seatbelt, she opened her door and silently slid out of the car, toting her small suitcase that was at her feet, behind her. Before closing the car door, Kate leaned down and poked her head back into the cars cabin. Her labored smile tore at his heart.

"See you Monday, Gibbs." She murmured lightly. Her cheeks flushed with the onslaught of chilly gusts of air whipping at her face and thrashing around her hair. He looked so good to her; he always provided her with her own personal life preserver and gave her an anchor to hope for— even if he never meant to. Maybe when she got back, she'd be able to tell him so.

"Kate..?" Gibbs called her back, making her look to him expectantly. When he finally got her attention, the corners of his mouth couldn't help but lift, if only slightly. He nodded and replaced his somber mask and warming concern:

"Call me when you're settled. Let me know you got there." It was a rough and stern and gently caring question and demand all rolled up into one priceless Gibbs-gesture. He did care. And Kate smiled, genuinely, and nodded her avowal that she would do just that. Her mouth quirked as she looked down and away from him before bringing her eyes to his once more, before retreating from the car completely; gently but firmly closing the passenger door with one hand. She patted the roof of the sedan as a signal of her departure before she clutched the edges of her red coat closed against her chest and began walking alone towards the terminals.

Gibbs sat in the car and quietly watched her troubled strides until he could no longer make out her form in the rising crowds— until airport security tapped on his window and motioned for him to move along. Gibbs threw a contemptuous glare at the guard before starting the car and pulling away from the curb with a tinge of regret marring his face and carelessly assailing his gut.

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	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Hello my pretties! This is a short one. My apologies.. but it's one of those.. little fillers that you need. A little transition. I'm thinking the next chapter might be the last... o.O I just know you want to review.. It's update food :)

7

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That weekend seemed to stagger slowly on for some reasons, and fly by for others. Gibbs had gone into work later that morning, soon after dropping Kate at the airport, and returned to a flurry of scattered agents and sheer chaos; he immediately drew to the center of it all to better bark orders and bear down on the remainder of his little team with demanding questions. The Director stood at the MTAC balcony, resting both hands on the front rail as he witnessed all the activity, along with Gibbs' hasty arrival. He had raised an eyebrow at the fact that Agent Todd was not at his senior agent's side when he strode off the elevator. But in his gruff, all business "let's get to work" way, there was simply no room for Morrow to question him, and really no need-- he was already aware of the probable sequence of events that Gibbs had followed. The Director was more _surprised_ than anything else; there was very little, if anything, that could make Gibbs spare an agent during a difficult investigation. Luckily, by the following night, the team had received the break they needed, catching their suspect red handed as Gibbs took extreme pleasure in taking the bastard down.

For Kate, time didn't seem to have a particular feel. As she walked the floors of her childhood home, everything stood still. Time and emotion became static things as she waded though memories, watching in slow motion as her past and present collided at ungodly speeds. It wasn't until Saturday evening that her mother finally saw her; with all the family milling through the house, Kate had been in charge of food and sleeping arrangements, her nieces and nephews and making sure everyone was where they should be. She wasn't sure, in the end, if these responsibilities had been placed upon her, or whether she had subconsciously taken charge-- knowing the situation that would inevitably face her on the second floor and taking self-preserving measures to stave it off.

After everything had settled down, mouths fed and the few straggling relatives that were to spend the night on floors and in guest rooms were settled, Kate made her way upstairs. When she was finally sitting on the edge of her parents' bed, her father and older brother Jack flanking either side of their mother, she allowed herself the luxury of something she hadn't all week-- she cried.

When the tears were over and the talking done, her mother and father quickly falling asleep a little after midnight, Kate and her brother distractedly made their way down to the empty kitchen. She needed to think. She needed to process. She needed to be able to carefully break down what was happening to her family and sort it through and try to fix it. She needed coffee.

Finding a few cups-worth in the pot left over from an after-dinner brew, Kate poured the contents into two mugs and tucked them into the microwave. She exhaled as she retrieved the milk from the refrigerator and the sugar from the cabinet, not acknowledging her brother's stare as he watched her move about the kitchen. She quietly made the coffee to her liking and sat beside Jack at the table, handing to him her small offering. Her brother was the stereotypical tall, dark, and handsome; dark brown eyes that rivaled her own, shaggy, yet well-kept brown hair that often fell into his eyes. He had taken the mug, but hadn't yet looked away from her. Once Kate's own cup, held in both hands, had reached her lips, Jack finally spoke:

"You never drink coffee..."

She looked at him over the rim of her cup as the corner of her mouth faintly lifted; the root cause beneath her coffee dependence flickered to mind.

Kate had only placed one phone call to Gibbs, last afternoon, fulfilling the promise they had made outside the airport. It was very short, very sweet, and filled with a certain tension that she hadn't expected and, more frustratingly, couldn't name. There was something that he wasn't saying, as the wheels began turning in the head of the profiler within her. But at the end of their 2 minute, 34 second conversation, she still couldn't identify what it was. And it bothered her-- still. Kate sat on her old bed with her cell phone in both hands, staring at the keypad while carefully dissecting their speech and mulling it over in her brain-- mulling over Gibbs in general. It was late, and even later in DC. She sighed and set the phone on her bedside table. She'd have plenty of time once she got back to work on Monday. She imagined to herself, '_There'll be plenty of time to be awkward_…'

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After a late Sunday of last minute reports and procedure, Gibbs had found out from Abby early that evening that Kate was home. And had apparently **been** home for hours. Despite Abby's usually impeccable skills of the analyzing kind, she just hadn't known any better to realize that this casual information ruffled Gibbs in a way that troubled him on several levels.

Why was Kate home so early; she must have gotten an early morning flight out of Indiana in order to be back in Washington already and 'home for hours..?' Why she hadn't given him a call for a ride or even a cautionary heads up was also on his list of things to think about. But what seemed to bother him most was why he was bothered at all— not to mention the rapid onset of concern that struck him, the preceding questions that his mind silently asked of his young agent.

He boiled it down to circumstance and her understandable preoccupation. Gibbs scowled and admonished himself for being involved in such a way— in such a personal way that his mind would jump to such questions so soon. And when he arrived home to no flashing light on his answering machine, no awaiting messages, then to no subsequent phone calls throughout the rest of the evening and night, Gibbs decided it was for the best. Being caught up in the way of expectant phone calls and late night off-the-job concerns… he knew better. And maybe, he thought with inescapable disappointment, she knew better, too. He nodded to no one as he got into bed— he'd follow her lead. Even if it was a road to nowhere.

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	8. Chapter 8

Here's a long one.. I didn't think you'd mind :) I was also thinking that this would be the final chapter. and I was wrong. you'll just have to review to let me know I should keep going.. .

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8

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It was déjà vu. Or he was having an out of body experience, reliving the past few weeks when Kate had been professionally cheery and mysterious, acting as if nothing unusual was happening outside those NCIS walls. He didn't believe in déjà vu, just as he didn't believe in coincidence. But he was fairly certain that he didn't believe in out of body experiences either… It wasn't until the first night he came home to find her in his kitchen that he decided it was neither.

It had been a long, tiresome night of endless paper work and follow ups for Gibbs, after just as long of an equally as exhausting day. He was feeling unusually altruistic and sympathetic towards his little team when he sent them home hours before he finally called it quits. During hour 2 of his third progress report, he started to rethink that maybe it hadn't been the best of plans.

He roughly rubbed a large hand over his tired face when he finally arrived home, trying to stay awake just long enough to open his front door—all he wanted to do was haul himself up and crawl into bed— and for once in a long while, he was too tired to even think about going anywhere near his basement door. Gibbs grumbled at this fatigue and took one weary step further into the hall, when he heard unfamiliar sounds coming from the heart of the house.

He stopped for a breath before silently removing the weapon from his waist. He tried to visualize the outside of his house; the street, the sidewalk, anything unusual or out of place, anything new or altogether missing—his mind mechanically went through its lists… _had that been a car across the street_? Creeping along the hallway towards the back of the house, he followed the clatter of metal until he reached the kitchen's illuminated threshold.

Without a word he spun from the wall, weapon raised as he leapt into the kitchen, making Kate drop the metal mixing bowl and wooden spoon she held in her hands, sending them to the floor in a tremendous metallic explosion against hard kitchen tile. Kate sprang back, her hands behind her, braced against the countertop in staggered alarm.

"**Damn** it, Gibbs..?!" She exhaled heavily, dropping her head back as her heart climbed down and out from her throat.

After processing her being there, Gibbs grunted before he lowered and holstered his sidearm, slowly sending a curious gaze around his kitchen and the mess that encompassed the space. And the even bigger mess that now covered the floor.

"Expect the unexpected, Kate…" he murmured gruffly, intimately watching as she grabbed a handful of paper towels, ripping them neatly from the roll.

"Yeah, well—" she huffed, "I suppose I could say the same thing for you… Do you usually make a habit of jumping out at people with your gun drawn like that?" sounding exasperated as she crouched down to mop up the chocolaty mess, Gibbs swiftly swiped the roll of paper towels from the counter and knelt beside her.

"Only when there's strange people in my house… _usually_." His voice was low and rough, but playful. It softened her, calming her down.

She stopped and looked up to him, fine strands of hair falling in her face, slightly dropping her arms to her sides in defeat. "So, I'm strange…?"

"_Yer in my house_..." Gibbs drawled slow and cool after a slight pause, amusingly pointing out the obvious. Mopping up the last of the chocolate and depositing the dirty paper towels into the now empty mixing bowl, he sat back on his haunches, looked to her and tilted his head. His tone was of the complete concern he felt for her, and he secretly hoped she saw through his slightly agitated exterior. "What's going on here, Kate…"

"Well, I was making these chocolate truffle cookies —that was, of course, _before_ you went all Dirty Harry on me, and everything wound up on the floor…— but I ran out of—" She started to ramble before Gibbs quickly cut her off, placing a firm hand on her shoulder as he ducked his head to catch her downcast eyes.

"You _know_.. that's _not_ what I meant." Kate shivered at the gravel timbre of his voice— that low, slow, coarse rumble that comes when he's trying to reel you back in, when he's trying to communicate something important, when he's trying to get something intimately important out of you. She self-consciously wet her lips as she lifted her eyes to his. A thousand mindless excuses popped into her brain before she sighed and dropped her gaze, deciding upon the truth.

"My apartment is.. it's too empty. And the kitchen's too small, and…" she clumsily wiped at her cheek with the back of her hand, leaving a streak of white powder, "and, I ran out of flour." Then she mumbled a concern that only Kate would mention at such a time: "You really should lock your door, Gibbs."

He vaguely shrugged, acknowledging what was said before his eyes widened slightly: "I had flour?"

Kate shook her head slowly, "No…" she replied lightly, matter-of-factly, not taking her eyes away. His mouth faintly quirked as he reached over and gently brushed the baker's flour from her face. His eyes crinkled in amusement at her brief confusion at this contact. He lowered his hand back to his thigh as he re-examined the kitchen with careful consideration, ignoring the sudden desire to replace his fingers to her skin.

"You buy all that?" he inquired lightly, motioning with a tilt of his head at all of the bowls and measuring cups, the bags of sugar and boxes of different cocoas and chocolates that littered the length of his countertops.

Kate followed his gaze but shook her head, "No.. actually.. that's all yours…" Gibbs' eyebrows perked.

"I _had_ all this in my kitchen?" Kate just smirked in response.

"Hunh..." he sounded with pleasant surprise before looking back to her, "Who knew."

---

The late night cooking continued for several, erratic nights. Gibbs was always the last to leave from work, and when he'd walk through the door and hear noises coming from the kitchen, they weren't so strange anymore. He began to anticipate them, welcome them. He'd linger in the hallway by the door and listen to the muffled tones of utensils on plates or spoons in bowls, and he was able to tell what she was making by the specific sounds of her preparation. If it was metal against glass bowls, she was cooking dinner... pasta, chicken, maybe both. Metal bowls signified chocolate brownies or cookies or muffins, something typically sweet and incredibly delicious. The sound of the electric beater, which he still could not believe he owned, was the indicator of cake. Cake always meant trouble. Gibbs was always thankful when he walked in and didn't hear the foreboding whir of an electric mixer.

When she hadn't shown at his stove for four days, he secretly worried and agonized and realized how quickly he missed the new, warm smells that he had begun associating with coming home—with his usually empty, sterile kitchen. And for once he wasn't terrified of such domestic thoughts.

At the beginning of the fifth day, when Kate was nearly an hour late for work and her desk phone was endlessly ringing in her absence, his worry intensified from nagging anxiety to legitimate, deep concern.

"Where the hell _is_ she…" he heard Tony mutter before the agent added in exasperation, "Boss... I _gotta_ answer that...!" Out of the corner of his eye, Gibbs saw Tony jump up and head for Kate's desk.

"Touch that phone, Dinozzo.." Gibbs glared at him over the rim of his reading glasses, adding gruffly, "..and I'll break your fingers."

When he saw Tony pause, to only slough off his threat, heading for his partner's desk anyway, Gibbs got up in one swift movement. Coming around from his own desk, he descended on Tony. A quick slap to the back of his head made Dinozzo quickly pull back his hand from Kate's phone. Gibbs just glared at him in warning and slowly shook his head. Tony huffed and motioned helplessly to the still-ringing telephone, whining:

"We gotta make it stop!"

Gibbs continued to stare as he raised an angry eyebrow. Tony stopped and thought before his face lit up in excitement.

"What if it's Kate, Boss.. you know, she's all.. **late **and not here… maybe there's an emergency? We should really—" Tony nodded and began to reach for the phone when Gibbs stepped between him and Kate's desk.

Gibbs shook his head with a small open-mouthed smile of sarcasm as he spoke slowly, "What part of 'break your fingers'… didn't you understand, Dinozzo?" Tony just looked from Gibbs to Kate's phone and back again repeatedly. Gibbs rolled his eyes and growled, "For Gods_sake_, she wouldn't be calling her own phone…"

Gibbs reached behind his back, putting his hand on the telephone. Nodding over to the other agent's desk, Gibbs lifted his eyebrows and sighed in frustration, "Why don't you make yourself useful.. go find out where the hell she is." He kept his eyes focused on Tony, willing him to retreat, when he picked up Kate's phone and spoke into the receiver: "Special Agent Todd's desk."

Tony backed away slowly, listening intently to the mostly one-sided, silent conversation that Gibbs was having. He almost missed Gibbs' low response, telling the caller that Kate wasn't available, asking what it was in regards to—he didn't, however, miss the quick downcast of his boss' eyes and the sudden flash of distress that came and went quickly across his face. Gibbs rubbed irritatingly at the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, "I will. Yes. Understood. I'll give her the message.. of course. Thank you…"

He hesitated before taking the phone away from his ear—he snapped back and looked up to Tony, trying to gauge how much, if anything, Kate actually told Dinozzo about her personal life. Hearing the endless badgering between her and Tony echoing in his head, he decided against any details, despite the pleadingly curious look the younger agent sent him.

"Go find Kate." Was all Gibbs could think of.

The opening of the elevator caught their attention and turned their heads. Tony pointed over to Kate, "Found her, Boss…" Gibbs shot him an indecipherable look, but it was one Tony knew: _Shut the hell up_.

Their M.I.A. counterpart breezed quickly into the bullpen with an arm-full of files, rambling breathlessly as she went: "I'm _so_ sorry, Gibbs—I mean, I left early to go get the Kutner interview that we didn't get yesterday? and I ran into traffic, then," she continued and let out a long breath after dropping the stack of files onto her desk with a loud, resounding thump, "there was a line at Evidence _and_ Archives."

Kate stopped when she saw Gibbs, still with her phone in hand. She immediately wheeled around to Dinozzo.

"What did you do!?" she roared.

Tony's jaw dropped as his face morphed into feigned, unbelieving hurt and surprise. "Wh—He— Why do you automatically assume it was me!?" he pointed to Gibbs, "I'm not the one holding the phone here!"

Kate rounded on him slowly, eyes narrowing with intent. "The only reason he would.. would be because of something _you_ did..!"

The two began bickering, arguing back and forth on the finer points of unfair assumptions and theories and practice of privacy. Gibbs sighed as he replaced the phone to its cradle.

"Kate.." he tried to interrupt and diffuse his agents, with no success.

"**HEY!**" Gibbs bellowed.

There was an immediate silence, from not only Kate and Tony, but the few surrounding agents who stared on in cautious fear. Gibbs cleared his throat and took a step forward, focusing his efforts and trying to prepare for her fight or flight.

"Kate…" he began again quietly.

Her face still held creased lines of annoyance as her dark eyes flashed with a softening anger; with defiant hands on slender hips, she turned away from her aggravating partner to face her boss. To Tony, Gibbs' expression was masked and frustratingly unreadable, but to Kate, it held a wealth of information that was unmistakable—holding things she wasn't ready for. She glanced from her desk phone and back to him, her face softly falling.

"Who was on the phone, Gibbs?" She took her hands from her hips and loosely dropped her arms to her sides. He dropped his gaze and faintly tilted his head to one side as he took another careful step towards her, considering his words very carefully.

Her eyebrows shot up, drawing together and creasing her forehead in an expression of quiet fear and mounting disbelief. When he looked to her again, her lips slightly parted, her eyes darting behind him, to her desk, and then back to his stoic face and emotive eyes. Eyes can lie... _but never his_, she thought to herself.

"Gibbs…?" She questioned, low and incredulous, waiting for him to tell her it wasn't what she thought— that it was not the phone call she had been dreading for weeks, for months. For years. The pounding in her chest steadily rose to a deafening hum in her ears, intensifying to a point where she wasn't entirely sure she'd hear him when and if he answered.

_I'm sorry, Kate._ She vaguely heard him say it. Her mouth opened and closed in silent uncertainty. She wondered if she had imagined it. But the look that passed over his face told her no…

"No…" she murmured hazily and repeated it in her mind. Kate shook head once, as if shaking the fog and the noise from her head, the cotton from her mouth. Gibbs had brought his hands up, hovering about her shoulders, protecting her without contact. She could see that he was speaking, but couldn't make out the words over the low buzz that was still resonating between her ears. She could only see his face, the lines that softened around his eyes and reappeared in the middle of his forehead when he was speaking out of concern. He was concerned. She started to panic inwardly. She tried desperately to read his lips, his facial expressions, but failed miserably. Kate shook her head again, slowly, not understanding.

"I have to… go.. there's… have to... I have to make a phone call." Kate spoke somewhat airily. The calm tone of her distracted voice unnerved Gibbs. Her eyes were unfocused and her breathing became very deep and very slow. "I have to make a call," she murmured to herself.

As he took another step forward, she took a step back. Taking a deeper breath and dreamily gazing at the floor, her eyes roved over the carpet at their feet, her mind descending into a slight panic as her thoughts began to ricochet-- they became thick and hazy, muddy and confused, but there was one thought that remained loud and steady above the din that was slowly building in her brain: She had to get out of the bullpen.

Gibbs could see it clear on her face before he noticed it in her knees as they started to shake and give. Her stance becoming unstable, he swiftly stepped into her, wrapping his large hands around her waist in a warm, firm rescue; his fingers making contact with her heated skin as he readjusted his hold on her. But seemingly not soon enough, as Gibbs wound up sinking to the floor with her anyway—Kate's legs collapsing beneath her as useless limbs of an unmanned marionette. He softly murmured to her, whispering something unintelligible into her hair, brushing her ear with his lips as he spoke to her in soft, gravel tones--her breath hitched. Gibbs got a better grip around her small frame before getting up and bringing Kate back to a precarious standing position; fumbling with his hands on her waist as he tried to keep her upright. He shot a look to Tony.

"Call Ducky.. tell him we're coming down." He mumbled roughly.

Tony was sitting at his desk, dumbfounded as ever as he stared at a slightly catatonic Kate. "What's going on, Gi—"

Gibbs directed Kate on shaky feet towards the elevator— growling over his shoulder, "Just.. do it!"

Watching the disjointed pair disappear behind the elevator doors, Tony responded quietly to no one, "Yes, boss…"

---


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Thank you to dg101 for the insight and encouragement on these last few chapters :) and yes.. I said last few... chapter 9 of 10...

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9

Gibbs couldn't deny the considerable alarm he felt rising through his chest— on the floor of the cold elevator, crouched down beside a conscious but unresponsive Kate. His hand cupped and covered her flushed cheek as he desperately tried to rouse her. Rouse her from what, he wasn't entirely sure, but something he hoped the good Doctor would have an answer to— _Shock_.. he thought. It had to be shock. He wasn't certain he had ever witnessed emotional shock… _physical_ shock, yes. Loss of blood and a good gunshot wound would do it to you almost every time. But this was different, this was brand new—and it scared the hell out of him.

"Kate… _Kate_.. look at me," came his husky plea, gently rubbing his thumb over the soft skin beneath her eye. "C'mon Katie..." he added in a gruff, bare whisper before sighing and looking up to the elevator's number panel.

"How.." Kate croaked absently—Gibbs immediately focused on her, though her eyes remained glazed and trained on a small metal scuff on the floor in the far corner of the elevator. He could see her breathing increase as she struggled with words, shaking her head and trying to regain some sort of balance or professionalism; however awkwardly situated they happened to be at the time. Her hands groped at his shirt sleeves as she tried to right her posture and hoist herself off the floor, failingly. "How did this.. happen, Gibbs.. I just…"

She gave up with a shuddering exhale and lapsed into silence, resting her head on the back wall of the elevator. Her breathing continued to escalate. Kate blinked rapidly as a single tear made its way down her face, catching at the corner of her mouth. Gibbs laid a hand on her back as he maneuvered himself behind her.

"You gotta breath, Kate… slow.." He sat firmly against her and leaned in close. His crisis mode kicked into action as he was absolutely convinced that if he didn't slow her breathing, she'd without a doubt hyperventilate before they even got to Autopsy. Gibbs began taking deep and deliberate breaths, breathing next to her ear, silently coaching her, urging her to follow his rhythm with the hand that pressed on her back.

As the elevator bell sounded, the doors slid open with Ducky waiting patiently on the other side. The doctor's eyes widened at the sight in front of him before rushing into the elevator.

"Good _heavens_, Jethro.. what in the world happened..?"

"She got some bad news, Duck." Gibbs murmured before looking up to him-- he shook his head with slight wide-eyed worry, "She's gonna pass out if she doesn't calm down."

"Come on then, get her up... get her up." Ducky spoke very softly as he helped Gibbs with Kate's almost dead weight; lifting her from the floor, both men tucked their shoulder under each of her arms. She started to slowly break from her fog with all of the movement as they guided her to an autopsy table.

"I'm.. fine, I'm _fine_." Her voice cracked huskily as she implored. "Just have to.." Gibbs took her by the waist and lifted her effortlessly up onto one of the tables as she spoke, "… sit down…"

She gave him a small considerate down-turned smile of thanks as she bobbed her head faintly. Ducky didn't miss Gibbs' hand squeezing and patting Kate's thigh as he slowly stepped away from her, just enough to let the doctor take over.

"Take deep breaths, Caitlin," Dr. Mallard nodded at her, demonstrating a deep exhale himself, "slowly..." With his usual care he took one of her wrists between his thumb and fore fingers, taking note of her racing pulse. Kate's breathing had slowed a bit, but the pounding in her chest refused to calm. She braced herself with both hands behind her on the metal table, closing her eyes in concentration as she tried to follow Ducky's instructions.

"Hmm, quite elevated now, isn't it…" Ducky murmured as he brushed the hair out of her face, noticing the small beads of sweat that gathered at her hairline. "Nauseous?" He asked softly.

Kate wet her lips and nodded a small _yes_. The doctor nodded in return, "You appear to be overheating somewhat as well… It would seem, my dear, that you are suffering from a slight… well, a panic attack." He patted her knee. "There's really nothing that I can give to you, I'm afraid.." Ducky snuck a glance at Gibbs before returning his gaze to Kate. "May I ask… what this bad news happened to be?"

Gibbs started to interject before Kate spoke softly, soberly and somewhat monotone: "My.. Mom's dead…" It was blunt and startling, both a statement and a question. An answer to Ducky's query and a question to Gibbs, in a disbelieving, twisted confirmation of what was slowly becoming reality for her. Kate looked up to see him watching her closely; Gibbs sadly bobbed his head.

"My dear…" Ducky paused in hushed surprise, "I am so _very_ sorry." With that he gave his young colleague a firm hug, her chin coming to rest on his shoulder as she stared blindly into space, her mind still processing. Gibbs watched on with a stiff swallow, sliding his hands into his pockets. When Ducky pulled away, he lightly brushed her upper arms. "I can still feel your pulse absolutely speeding, Kate.. why don't you just rest here for a moment, hmm..?" He went to his desk and grabbed his discarded suit coat. "Here now..." Ducky eased her into a lying position down on the table, rolling up and placing his jacket beneath her head. He gave a small, sad smile, "Breath slow… it shall pass." He gently patted her shoulder and whispered, "It shall pass.." He walked towards the Autopsy doors, dimming the lights and letting the glow of the hall light cast shadows around the room. Gibbs followed, brushing his hand softly against Kate's cheek as he passed. She shut her eyes tight and pressed her lips together in a fight for composure.

Out in the hall, Gibbs closed the doors behind him and leaned heavily against them. Ducky was the one to break their brief silence:

"She'll be alright, Jethro…"

"Is that a statement, or a question, Duck..." Gibbs gruffed quietly, taking a hand from his pocket and rubbing a palm over his face.

"Well, a little of both, I suppose…" The doctor sighed and went to the elevator, beckoning for Gibbs to follow. "Why don't you let her rest for a time.. and you, my boy, get to work. I'll send her back to you once she's a bit more settled."

Gibbs studied Ducky for a moment before agreeing, pawing at the Up button. He mumbled, "If anything changes—"

"You will be the _first_ to know.." Dr. Mallard gave a faint smile. Gibbs nodded his thanks and patted the doctor on the back before stepping into the elevator and disappearing behind the sliding metal doors.

Ducky sighed as he returned to Autopsy, ruminating on the unfortunate and heavy weight that must rest on poor Caitlin's shoulders. He was also trying to interpret that strange look of Jethro's—he hadn't seen that amount of concentrated concern in his eyes in a long while, not since--

Ducky abruptly stopped once he stepped into Autopsy. "Oh dear..."

Turning an immediate about-face, the doctor went back through the doors and collided with Gibbs, who had accidentally left his phone on one of Ducky's tables. Gibbs squinted at him in suspicious question, a sinking feeling already overcoming his mighty gut, "Duck…?"

"We, hmm... we seem to have a small problem." Ducky nodded, his voice laced with an odd mixture of amusement and panic. Gibbs brushed past him into Autopsy and gazed around the completely empty room, with all of its empty tables.

"Our dear Caitlin, has escaped." Ducky chimed, somewhat amused at Kate's quick and obfuscating departure.

Gibbs grabbed his phone and hit several buttons, turning to his friend as he held the phone to his ear, "Did you see her leave, Duck?" But the doctor shook his head.

"My guess would be the loading doors…" Ducky motioned towards the rear exit on the back, opposite wall.

Gibbs snapped the phone shut when there was no answer at the other end. He silently set off in the direction of Kate's suspected escape route, heading for the motor pool at a brisk pace.

"Right..! I'll stay here then.. in case she.. wanders back..." Ducky's sentence called after him, gradually fading in Gibbs' sudden absence. He sighed heavily. "Right."

---


	10. Chapter 10

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10

It had started to rain sometime after 10, but well before noon, and after a failed search of NCIS, there was still no sign of Kate. Gibbs tramped down the anxiety in his gut, knowing that she needed space, and not to be watched by their team under a microscope of sympathy and good intentions. He knew because he was certain he'd feel the same way, and do the exact same thing. But he also knew, even if he wouldn't have admitted it if he _were_ in her shoes, that she should not be alone.

He had Abby place a trace on Kate's phone; but with the cell off, Abby sadly informed and reminded Gibbs that a trace was useless… _but I'll keep it on the hunt Boss man…_ With a mumbled response he had thanked her and dropped his cell onto the passenger's seat, taking a third go around down Kate's street— with no luck.

The rain came down in such heavy volumes that Gibbs couldn't remember the last time it had rained so much, so quickly. He was soaking wet from walking in this weather, from head to toe, his clothes were clinging in wet, sopping expanses of irritating fabric to cold skin. Even his socks were completely soaked through. When a slight shudder ran through him, he made the quick decision to go home and get changed before he went to stake out and siege Kate's apartment, to wait for her eventual return. Gibbs getting sick would be good to no one.

Making a sudden U-turn in the middle of the road, he used his Emergency brake for leverage as the sedan spun in a near 180 degree clean turn, speeding off in the opposite direction. He soon flew down his own rain-beaten street and turned into the driveway, throwing the gears into Park before jumping from the car.

Heading for the house, he abruptly stopped and looked around; searching for something that he wasn't entirely sure what he was looking for... almost sensing in his gut that she had been here. But with no visible evidence to back the feeling of his mighty gut, he snapped open his phone, still looking around helplessly. Another chill ran through him, but he figured wet clothes were wet clothes, and he continued to stand out in the pouring rain. He dialed Abby, who picked up within a half of a ring, maybe less.

"Gibbs! Did you find her??"

"I was about to ask you the same thing, Abs…" he muttered grimly.

"No luck here.." Abby sighed, "but, when she comes on, I'll know. And then _you'll_ know I know, because I'll have called you right away after I **do** know and then we'll both know I knew—!" Abby heard a faint click closely followed by a droning dial tone. "Gibbs?"

He stood in the rain, shoving the phone back into his pocket, mouth slightly gaping between slow pants of tired anxiety— he looked around his yard, helplessly searching for some impossible clue, some unforeseeable answer— racking his brain over all the places she could possibly have gone. He noted with exasperation that she could be anywhere by now, including **every**where he'd already looked... the coffee shop, the restaurants, the bars and her apartment. He had Tony call the airports and McGee check the firing range. Ducky called the hospitals and Abby kept an eye on the security feeds for all of NCIS. With Gibbs rounding up the search on foot with aimless pursuits in the sedan, he was sure they'd have found her by now. He felt a new appreciation for paperwork, as it was a lucky thing, dare he not say coincidence, that paperwork was all they had on their plates for the day.

The rain dripped from the end of his nose and the short ends of his hair. Looking down in troubled thought, a surge of impatient determination rose from his gut. His brow furrowed as he shook his head. This was too elusive.. _she was good. But she wasn't this good_. _**She didn't just disappear**_, he thought to himself furiously.

With renewed vigor and wet, controlled steps, he strode up the front walk and vaulted the front porch. Pushing open his heavy front door and slinging his wet jacket to the floor by the closet, he threw his keys onto a small table in the hall. His phone started to ring, muffled in his pocket, but he ignored it as he began to bound up the staircase with Gibbs-like purpose, taking the steps two at a time. His hand on the banister, he stopped short on the third step, taken by the sight at the top of the stairs.

Kate stared at him thoughtfully for a moment before closing her phone and casually tossing it down to him. Gibbs caught it with one hand.

"I was calling you.." she said softly. He couldn't immediately tell if there was a slight slur in her words or if it was only a tremor in her voice.

He openly gazed and regarded her full appearance: the tousled hair that poured about her shoulders, her ruddy cheeks and the evidence of wiped away mascara. But what made him stare the most were the bare legs that emerged from underneath one of his over-sized, faded NIS t-shirts. Trying desperately to keep his head, he cleared his throat and brought his eyes back to hers.

"Kate.." was that his hoarse, strangled voice? He didn't have the time to check before his phone began to ring again. Digging in his pocket, he retrieved it without taking her from his sight.

"Yeah.. Gibbs." He answered.

"_Gibbs! Kate's phone…!_"

"Yeah… I know, Abs.." he preempted and abruptly ended Abby's rant as he pocketed both his and Kate's phones and took a cautious step up the stairs; their eyes silently warring and searching the other's.

"I've been looking for you… for _hours_, Kate.." he lowly drawled, his frustrated concern not a hidden thing; stopping only a few steps below the top landing, he looked up to her expectantly.

Swaggering and vaguely amused at this statement, she raised an eyebrow. "I've been here..." She slurred matter-of-factly. Truth be told, this _was_ the only place Gibbs hadn't had mind to look. He cursed at himself for forgoing the obvious.

Nodding slowly, her legs drew back his attention, "You made yourself.. comfortable.." his voice rumbled warmly, taking time to memorize the way his shirt hung low and loose on her small frame.

"Mmmhmmm..." She raised a wine glass to her lips, never taking her darkened eyes off of him despite the faint chocolate fringe that hung in her face.

"You should call your fathe—" she interrupted him quickly and simply stated:

"I already did." Kate's voice was thick and hazy—thick with wine, thick with sadness.

Gibbs nodded, then tilted his head and eyed her glass. "You.. smell like Bourbon…" he silently questioned her red wine, as he took another step up.

"Yer out." Kate's voice sang softly as her lips quirked, giving him an unreadable expression. "And _you_ can't smell me from _there_.." she chuckled huskily, laced with the wine she drank slowly. He immediately thought of the last time they were here, doing this—the deep, throaty chuckles, the drunken singing, the intoxicating and subtle way she stole little kisses and managed to steel herself permanently in that place in his heart that he had begun to keep solely for her.

He shook himself out of his Kate-ish trance, shaking his head and squinting his eyes in disbelief. "Wait. Wha— '_**I'm**_ out?'" His eyebrows rose, "You mean _you_ _drank_ the rest of it.." Gibbs accused her with a faintly raised pitch in his voice as he continued their odd, playful banter, watching as she leaned a shoulder against the wall, poised elegantly at the top of his stairs— embodying all that dreams were made of… if not for circumstance.

Kate mumbled lightly in protest, "I didn't drink it **all**…" Squinting one eye, she held up her thumb and index finger to him, signifying the tiny amount-- one corner of her mouth frowned in disappointment, "I **spilled** _some_ of it."

As Gibbs took another slow step up, Kate made her first miss-step down. With her footing momentarily lost, he reached and grabbed her quick and firm; one hand gripping her upper arm as the other settled naturally around her waist. Kate's breathing hitched as she felt his warm breath on her burning cheeks. He looked over her blushing face in mild amusement before murmuring gruffly:

"I thought.. I _told_ you, you weren't allowed to touch my Bourbon anymore…"

Kate thought for a moment, slowly wetting her lips. "_Oops_.." she whispered slowly, raising guilty eyebrows.

Gibbs finally became aware of his thoroughly wet attire; also becoming conscious of Kate's half-dressed body pressed up against his wet clothes. He grumbled softly to himself, "Now we _both _have to change.." His eyes shone at her as she felt the rumble of his voice slowly resonate from his chest to hers. "Good thing yer comfortable enough to wear my clothes, Kate. Maybe we'll even.. try some pants."

Kate murmured an unintelligible acknowledgment adding a deep chuckle, nodding in amusement, "That's.. that's good.." She began to move out of his grasp fully intending to journey downstairs, still sniggering quietly at his pants remark.

"Wait, wait wait…" Gibbs reestablished his hands on her shoulders, halting her getaway. "Where you goin' Kate.."

She held out her arm to one side, gracefully lifting her wine glass. "I am.. going to getta refill.. **Gibbs**." She smirked at him when he gave her a shake of his head.

"Ohhhhh-hoo noooo," she chuckled and cooed, "Yer not boss-man here.. nuh-uh."

"Kate…" his tone left no room for negotiation. And if she hadn't been in the state that she was, she would have clearly recognized that. Any other day of the week, any other time of the day, she would have known that this was Gibbs' serious voice. She fuzzily defied her logical self, and pushed that common sense down into the belly of her grief.

" 'Kate…?' Kate _what_, Gibbs…" her eyes looked up to his face with such pleading confusion, that he had to look away. Her voice softened a little, but her eyes remained resolute, "You.. _you_ said it yourself.. 'You do what you have to..'.. what you _need_ to…" she amended sadly.

Gibbs shook his head. "This isn't what you need…"

Just because she didn't put voice to thought did not mean that Gibbs didn't fully understand the "don't you dare tell me what I need" expression that flashed across her reddening face.

"It's what _you_ needed. It's what _you_ did..." she protested, although the fight suddenly left her physically as her arms went lax.

He blinked and opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. He hadn't honestly believed his own mother would come into conversation that day, directly or indirectly, but he swallowed it down. Gibbs' eyes darted quickly about her face, lost in emotional thought at what exactly should be said to that. It was one of those rare moments of vulnerability for him, of an intimate exposure that spread across his face.

Sniffing lightly, he wet his lips before he spoke quiet and slow: "I don't want you making my mistakes, Kate."

Soothingly he took his hand and ran it over her mussed hair, brushing it away from the side of her face. He ducked his head in order to catch her eyes when she averted her gaze while she blinked rapidly against the onset of tears. They didn't come— but he didn't have to see them to know that they were there. "Kate.." he begged gently.

Kate swallowed. She brought her eyes up to his and faltered. Her lips quirked with a bare quiver before bringing her hand up to his cheek. She softly explored the side of his face in silent, ever-so-slightly intoxicated fascination. She slid the open palm of her small hand to tenderly cup his jaw as her eyes drew up to his disheveled, wet and matted hair; bringing her other hand up, she lazily fingered a damp piece of the salt and pepper mess and gave a dreamy, choked up sigh with a soft mutter of concern:

"Yer all wet…"

Gibbs paused, considering the now dampened front of her t-shirt before countering lightly, "So are you."

When he looked into her eyes, he couldn't quite tell what was taking place inside of her head— when, usually, he was so good at reading her, he felt a troubled pang of guilt for suddenly not being able to read her now. He couldn't have said whether she was going to burst into tears, or send him out for more wine, kiss him senseless, start pummeling his chest in utter, desperate grief, or ask him whether he wanted cake... chocolate, or vanilla. Gibbs couldn't pin down her single emotion, because, he realized, any one of her reactions were possible. He silently prepared for them all.

Her hands slid down and rested on his shoulders, neither pushing him away nor pressing to him closer. Kate tipped her head to one side and dropped her gaze, keeping her eyes from his as she looked to a safe spot on his soaked shirt.

"We don't.. have _time_ to…" she softly started and stopped her train of thought, deciding first to carefully roll it around in her fuzzy head.

Gibbs tried to follow, his head bent and brow creased as he watched her face closely. He started to put a little distance between them, feeling a little uneasy with her being so close, so unclothed.. She immediately squeezed his shoulders and stopped his movement. Gibbs looked to her in confusion and saw a sudden edge of fear shadowing her expression.

"That's.. _that's_ what I mean!" she exclaimed wildly, her eyes going slightly wider as she tried to enforce the importance of what she was trying to say. "We don't have _time_ to be awkward. I thought we did, I thought.. but we.. We just—" she shook her head, "..we _don't_, Gibbs…!" Kate's lips parted in frustration, her breaths came quick and ragged, the usual precursor to the fall of tears— but still, they didn't come.

"Kate…" Gibbs visibly swallowed.

Kate's head began swimming as he eased her slowly backwards to sit down on the top step of the staircase. Kneeling in front of her on a lower stair, he brought his large hands to rest and cover her knees, his thumbs drawing small, soothing circles on the silky insides of each thigh. His brow softened and his voice lowered, "You're not your mother." Finally a tear slipped down her cheek, but she didn't wipe it away.

"I could be…" she whispered; the husk in her tone did little to hide the shake in her voice. Her words were a little less slurred now, but he knew that most of this raw honesty was from more than a little of the wine in the glass that he had at last eased from her hand and set down beside her. Kate's dark eyes were glassy and wide, staring at him with a sobering need and intimate concern. But she went on brokenly: "And then… I'd never.. I couldn't have the chance—" She choked on a tiny sob as she said his name, stopping it before it could escape.

At her pause, he forgot everything. His hands flexed against her knees as his mind lost touch with the fact that he was kneeling before a Kate that had no pants on; that his clothes were still dripping with rain water; or that breathing consisted of both inhaling and exhaling.

She slowly inched herself from the top step, sliding down to the next stair until the insides of her thighs were snug against his sides, his stomach fittingly flush against the valley of her parted legs. Gibbs' mind began to break down at just the thought of such contact— and he wished his wet clothes hadn't made his skin so numb. He finally thought enough to breath.

"Kate..." he began cautiously, an undertone of careful warning voiced the concern of her physical and emotional state. Gibbs couldn't imagine that she had any idea exactly how much he wanted her—but he would never take advantage of alcohol or tragedy, especially with her, even if it meant refusing his deepest dreams.

She inched her face forward, as if afraid she'd scare him away, afraid that it would all drop from underneath. She had the need to feel reality, the good _and_ the bad… and right then, she desperately needed the good. She needed him to prove to her _the good_.

Kate gave a subtle, sharp intake of breath as she hesitantly pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth, one hand edging up his chest while the other snuck around to the back of his neck. When Gibbs didn't react, or retreat, she slid her lips soundly over his, her mouth gently massaging and molding to his lips. His hands went slowly from her knees, under her legs and carefully slid up the back of her thighs. Even with his limited contribution, she knew: _**This**__ was the good_, as her eyes fluttered closed with a deep, pleasing sigh.

Squeezing his sides between her thighs, she delicately brought herself fully up against him, deepening her kiss as both hands held his face in a feathered exploration of his quickly reddening cheeks. Gibbs blushing? It only strengthened Kate's resolve. But it was the soft run of her tongue against his bottom lip that unraveled him—he could not be a non-participant. He was a man, after all. A man who loved Kate Todd; this woman in his shirt, kissing him on his stairs, drunk on his wine and making him equally as drunk with just the thought of loving her.

He softly growled out a low groan as he leaned into her, returning what she gave him and a little bit more— his hands crept over her hips and up her sides, skimming the intoxicating contours of her body, brushing against the sides of her breasts underneath the loose cotton, slowly tilting her back against the stairs. His arms entrapped her as his hands came to rest on the step behind her, supporting his weight and boxing her in as her kiss only intensified in response. This was certainly of the good… and she imparted that to him quite well, as the message seemed to be well received by Gibbs.

After drawing a muffled moan from her mouth, he pulled away slowly, tugging at her bottom lip as he went. Drawing her mouth to his once more in a quick kiss of mutual reassurance, he finally exhaled. And when he pulled fully back to look at her face, Kate was visibly dazed— eyes still closed, her mouth still slightly parted and moist. Nothing could have looked more beautiful to Gibbs. He raised a rough palm to her cheek, bringing her attention back. He stroked his thumb against her cheek and told her quietly:

"You'll always have the chance with me, Katie…"

For a moment she only stared at him, happiness darkening her eyes before her beautiful face began to crumple and fall— she raised her hands to cover her face, to bury and hide her tears. Gibbs frowned sadly as he slid a hand through her hair to the back of her head, gently pulling her to him, tucking Kate into his chest.

Murmuring words of comfort into her hair like "Breath, Kate," and "That's-a girl," "Let me help you," and "You'll be alright"— he took mind not to say anything foolish like "_It's_ _all right_" or "It's okay to be _sad_," because he knew it wasn't alright and he knew that what she felt transcended sadness entirely— and to try and simplify that complexity by giving it a name as plain as "sad"… Gibbs knew better. But Gibbs also knew that taking too much time coming-to-terms-with-the-bad-things-that-happen easily turned into dwelling-relentlessly-on-the-awful-things-you-couldn't-change, until _it_ changes _you_, and that led a person down a terribly dangerous road. He promised himself he wouldn't let her self-destruct. And Gibbs always kept his promises.

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	11. Epilogue

A/N: Ok, my friends... I do believe that with this short add, this story is complete. I can't believe it took me an entire 2 years, but it's finished. Thank you for reading and coming along for the ride ;j I hope you get the chance to review--these last few chapters were difficult for me to write, and I'd always like to know how I did :) Who's up for another story? If you review.. maybe you'll get it... ooo, bribery? I *didn't* just offer a story bribe...?!

Yes. I did.

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Epilogue

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The wind came from the side and behind, tossing her hair around her face and shoulders and forcing the ends of her long red coat to trail and blow out in front of her. She looked like one of those paintings, with the girl atop the hill, with wild, wind-flipped hair and windblown dress in the middle of the field of impressionist wild flowers. The chill of mid-November made itself known as the wind gave a forceful gust that sent a scutter of scarlet and fiery leaves from the surrounding trees to drop and scatter and bluster about her. She watched a red maple leaf dance across the lawn, lost in the simplicity of it before a hand pressed carefully against her lower back, urging her forward in turn. Taking her eyes from the windblown leaves, she stepped onward with a bowed head as she reluctantly dropped a single yellow rose down onto the simple dark wood casket, the only yellow amid a sea of red ones. Kate swallowed hard as she stood before the large hollow in the ground, hands clasped tightly around her mother's rosary—she smoothly fingered her thumb over several of the glass beads as she closed her eyes, internalizing each appropriate prayer in a careful meditation against the potential ambush of tears, of panic.

The wind seemed to come from beneath to greet her before the hand returned to her back, strong and unfaltering. Gibbs stood slightly behind her, but at her side, his hand firmly sliding up to the middle of her back, offering a silent measure of solace. She lifted her head faintly in his direction before nodding and letting him lead her away, allowing those who had not yet paid their respects, to do so before the air turned any colder or blew any harder.

Through broken-up apologies of wishing they didn't have to meet this way, she said her tearful good-byes to friends she hadn't seen in years and family that she hadn't seen in more. When she came to her father, brothers and sister, she was enveloped in the kind of group hug that was a salve to aged and deep wounds. But as Gibbs watched on, removed from the crowd, he knew that it would take more. Lowering his gaze to his feet, he waited patiently for her. He only lifted his head when he felt her eyes on him, watching as she slowly made her way over to him, up the little hill towards the old Oak that he stood beneath.

Wrapping her coat around her tightly, fighting off the chill of November and of sorrow, she came to stand beside him. Looking around her, slightly apprehensive, she finally looked up to Gibbs with a tilt of her head.

"Thank you…" she said simply, deep and appreciative, squinting at him through the slivers of sun that filtered through the autumn trees and shone in her eyes. Gibbs nodded.

"You did well.." he told her warmly. He paused and silently chastised himself for his choice of words, as if this day were some sort of appraisal of duty rather than a testament of strength. Of her strength, of her mother's strength. She brought a hand up to his arm when she noticed his vague grimace, knowing exactly what was going on in his head. Kate offered him a small, understanding smile, rubbing her hand softly against his coat sleeve. She leaned up and placed a warm kiss to his cheek, squeezing his arm firmly as she did so. Before she pulled away, he caught her lips in a quick, proper but powerful kiss. Kate smirked faintly against his mouth as her ungloved hand stroked his cheek, removing her lips from his slowly. Her dark eyes glistened with unshed tears as she gave him several vague nods.

"Let's go home.." she murmured.

Gibbs bobbed his head as he offered his arm to her, which she immediately took and hugged tightly to her side. They walked across the perfectly manicured cemetery lawn towards the rental car in comfortable silence. They would survive— he would make sure of it. He reciprocated her hold on him as he drew her closer and tucked her neatly into his side as they walked on beside one another. Gibbs placed a soft kiss in her hair and gave Kate's arm a gentle squeeze.

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A/N2: And when you review... because since I know you're done..you will review.. won't you..... simply tell me 'hostage' or 'AU' at the end of your little message. you'll find out later. If. you review...;)

A/N3: I'd also like to add to this story, as my own personal public service announcement that, if you don't know the symptoms to look for, and the warning signs of Ovarian Cancer, please.. do some research. Too many times, it's found too late. Knowledge is one of the best preventions.


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